Til Life Do Us Part
by FateRogue
Summary: The son of Victor Van Dort, James, finds himself searching for the land of the dead for an adventure before he is to be married off to the not-so-nice Elizabeth Riverton. However, when he meets the Corpse Bride, he finds more than he bargained for and is caught up in trying to stop a great evil.
1. Chapter 1

**Man, am I on a story kick lately! I keep switching from updating new chapters to getting different story ideas from movies, and I just HAVE to write them down!**

 **Reviews are appreciated!**

James Van Dort straightened the lapels on his suit jacket and sighed, staring in the mirror before him. He leaned in close to study himself, tilting his head this way and that; he was pale, like both his parents before him, and had lighter shade of brown hair as compared to his father's own black, and had his mother's green eyes. He supposed he looked more like his mother than his father, although they shared the same lithe, long legged build as opposed to burlier men.

Today he was to meet the woman he was supposed to be arranged to marry, Elizabeth Riverton, and he dreaded it so. His sister, Mary, knew the older girl and had informed him of her greedy tendencies, something that he was not sure he would be able to stand should the go through with it; neither sibling approved of the idea, quite frankly. Of course, some arranged marriages turned out alright—take their parents, for instance, who were very much in love. But some did not end well and left both, or in lesser cases, one, of the spouses unhappy because their partner could not come to love them, or because they did not get along.

Allowing another sigh when the door opened, he did not turn, and instead watched as his father, Victor, came to stand behind him and place both hands on his shoulders.

"It will be alright," he reassured his son lightly. "After all, you won't have to deal with any of the complications I had to before my wedding to your mother."

"Complications?" James's brows furrowed, and he turned. His father dropped his hands. "What complications?"

"That is not of importance."

"Father," pleaded the nineteen-year-old. "Please, I want to know."

"It's...quite a story to tell. I'm afraid you won't believe me, but…" Victor glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. "We have just enough time to tell, I suppose. Have a seat, son."

James quickly seated himself in a chair, his father doing the same and taking the one across from him.

"I was your age," he began. "And had just met your mother. She found me in the main hall, playing the piano, and of course I found that I liked her immediately upon meeting. However, I made quite a fool of myself and her mother, your grandmother, showed up and interrupted us; she did not approve of us being alone together. It was less proper then than it is now." The man sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head back to rest against the chair. "We were practicing our vows, and I made a fool of myself yet again. So, I made myself scarce and ran into the forest to get some air; along the way, I found myself in a graveyard, under an old oak tree, attempting to practice my vows. I had just gotten them right, of course, and I suppose I got a little cocky, for I slid the ring meant for your mother onto the branch of a tree that looked rather like a hand." James leaned forward and clasped his hands between his knees, listening. He did not know where this was going, but he did not speak. "Well, as it turned out, it was." Victor chuckled to himself. "A woman crawled out of the ground, and when I laid my eyes upon her, I was shocked. Her skin was blue, as you would associate with the dead, her hair was dark, and she had the most expressive eyes I've ever seen...she was also wearing a torn wedding dress. She followed me, and I was so frightened that I ran; however, I didn't get very far besides the bridge and I suppose I fainted, for when I awoke that corpse bride was staring down at me, and over a dozen other blue tinted people and skeletons as sounds bizzare, I know, but I'm not crazy—it's very real, and you can ask your mother so."

Victor continued to tell the tragic tale of the Corpse Bride, Emily, and how in the very end, though he cared for her greatly and was just about to commit suicide so that he could marry her as he promised, she let him go (and it would have been suicide, drinking that poison). And so, the Corpse Bride disappeared into the night, never to be seen or heard of again.

James pondered over this, and decided that, though it seemed incredibly far fetched, it was not something someone could just make up, least of all his father, even less his mother, should he ask her later.

The clock rang out, and the men stood, making their way to the door. As they descended the stairs, he caught a glimpse of a plump girl his age wearing a very tight corset, and it seemed that her breasts did not quite fit right inside, for she seemed to be having trouble breathing. When she caught sight of him, a smile made its way onto her face-it seemed rather forced, to him, but if the spark in her eyes was anything to go by, _she_ definitely liked what she saw.

Quite honestly, the same could not be said for himself. She nearly had a double chin, and though he did not mind her plumpness, he found the corset far too tight and unnecessary, and the look in those mud brown eyes of hers unnerved him.

But, she was his betrothed and a guest in his home, so he nevertheless swiftly bowed to her and pressed a kiss to the back of her outstretched hand.

"Madam Riverton," he greeted, peering up at her from his bow as he straightened, pushing an unruly lock of hair back upon his head. "A pleasure to finally meet my bride to be."

"The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Van Dort," giggled Elizabeth. "Please, call me Elizabeth."

James managed a half hearted smile at her when he saw his mother's approving an encouraging look. "Then you must call me James."

"It is time for the two of you to practice your vows," announced Mrs. Riverton, while Mr. Riverton nodded rather carelessly in agreement, eyes roving all over the house and stopping finally on Mary, who, as he could tell, shifted uncomfortably but smiled politely nevertheless. "Shall we?"

"Yes, yes," floundered Victor, who had obviously forgotten that part when he diverted his attention. "Please, do follow me."

He and Victoria led the way, and Mary and James followed along behind, exchanging wary glances at each other and over their shoulders at the Rivertons.

There was something off about them...something off indeed.

~~~xxx~~~

"With this hand I lift your sorrows. Your cup will never be empty, for I will be your wine," James held his right hand aloft, and held the candle in the other. He tipped it toward the candle on the table and allowed the tip to alight, before carefully pulling his arm back. "With this candle, I will light your way into darkness. And with this ring…" He pulled the ring from his pocket, and he could hear his father let out a sigh of relief at how well things were going, obviously remembering when he had been the one practicing his own vows.

James met the eyes of Elizabeth, who was not staring at him, but at the ring, unblinking; it was a simple gold thing, but perhaps that was the problem. Maybe she did not like it?

He stared at her for a moment, feeling his stomach twist. He really did not want to do this, and saying those last words would only make it all the more real. He did not want to be tied to this woman forever—it did not seem right in the slightest.

But he had to, and so he would.

"With this ring," he repeated. "I ask you to be mine." And then, for the practice, he slid it onto her finger and she smiled widely, gazing down at it.

They stood there in silence for a rather awkward few moments, before the minister interrupted, "Alright, give back the ring. It's meant for the actual ceremony, you must remember."

"Alright, alright," said Elizabeth, though the hint of the whine in her voice was clear enough as she returned the ring, and James pocketed it once again. "I was merely inspecting it. It's beautiful."

"I bought it myself," murmured James, before glancing over at his parents. He felt rather hot, and that sick feeling in his stomach had not yet vanished. "May I be excused? I think I need some air."

Victor started a bit at that, and Victoria seemed a bit reluctant as well, but he smiled reassuringly at them and they finally nodded.

So, he left the house at a brisk pace and found himself wandering through the forest aimlessly.

"Why is it me? Why must history repeat itself this way? Why do I have to marry a woman I disliked from the very start?" He sighed as he strolled along, and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I'm not my parents. I don't know if I can even do this…"

He suddenly stumbled, but caught himself just in time and glanced about. Gravestones, enormous, old oak tree….

How had he come to be here, of all places? Why had his subconscious led him to this place, the one his father said he himself had stumbled upon before his great adventure?

 _I wonder,_ thought James. _If anyone would answer if I called. An adventure sounds like exactly what I need right now, before I find myself tied down and bound to Elizabeth Riverton for the rest of my life._

"Is anyone there?" He turned this way and that, but was only met with the squawking of the crows on the branches above. "Please, is there anyone who can hear me? I only want to meet with you, any of you!"

Still silence. With a great sigh, James seated himself on a rock and put his head in his hands, threading his fingers through my hair.

"Who am I kidding? This would never have worked. I'm a living person, why would they feel the need to answer my calls? And now I'm talking to myself, wonderful…"

There was complete silence in the forest, and it was rather unsettling considering the racket the crows had been making before.

The ground trembled, and for a moment he thought it might be an earthquake, until a skeletal hand broke free of the ground and latched onto his ankle; James yelped and attempted to jerk away. He forgot all about his calls and pleas when he saw it, for it had shocked him so badly he actually felt frightened.

He could not get away, and the tugging did not stop. Instead, it intensified until he could no longer withstand it and found himself being drug into the ground, until he was falling, falling, falling into the darkness.

~~~xxx~~~

When he opened his eyes, he found himself lying on the ground and several people staring back at him.

No, not people.

Skeletons. Corpses.

As he scrambled to his feet, he found himself bumping straight back into the body of a skeleton with a dark suitcoat and stylish mustache, and it—he?—laughed and clapped the young man on the back.

"Another living one!" he cried good-naturedly, leaning closer. "Looks rather like the last one, this one does. Say, Emily, doesn't he look like Victor?"

 _Emily?_ was currently the only thought running through James's mind right now. Had he really done it, made it to the world of the dead, the world down below? _Does that mean_ _ **I'm**_ _...no, surely not, father is still alive…_

"I don't know," said the corpse woman behind the skeleton, eyes flickering over him once before she turned her head.

"You're the one who brought him here! Shouldn't you know who he is?"

"I don't know, Albert. He called, and I brought him down. But he shouldn't be here." She wrapped her arms around herself. "It's not like he'll stay."

The skeleton, Albert, gently shook his head and turned. "What's your name, kid?"

"James," managed James, watching the Corpse Bride with wide eyes. "James Van Dort."

"You don't say!" exclaimed another skeleton, who only had one eye and wore a bowler hat. He recalled his father calling this one Bonejangles. "Are you ol' Victor's son, grandson, great-grandson, or what?"

"I'm his son." James noticed that Emily had frozen, and was now staring at him with a carefully blank expression, lips pursed. "He told me about you, all of you, just today...I wanted to see for myself."

"Well, you don't have some little living bride up there waiting for you, do ya?"

James felt that sick feeling return, and the Corpse Bride's arms tightened around herself. "I wouldn't say _little…_ "

"You don't like her, then?" cut in Albert, obviously curious as he held his pipe aloft.

"I haven't gotten the chance to know her," the young man tried to sound diplomatic, but really could not help himself from continuing. "But so far, no, I don't particularly. She doesn't seem like a very nice woman."

"Then why not say no?"

James sighed, lifting a hand to smooth over his hair with. This was absurd, talking to dead people like this, but he supposed that if it were real and he wasn't going crazy, what would be the harm? They were speaking to him, and it was only polite to speak back; besides, he found himself quite curious of this new place. "I can't. It would disappoint my parents, and I would rather not do that. They've been very good to me."

"I hear you, my friend." The skeleton man nodded in sympathy, before giving him a wide mouthed, toothy grin. "How about we throw you a bachelor party, eh? It'll be great fun! That's what you're here for, isn't it? Fun?"

The alive boy's eyes made to find Emily yet again, and found that she had disappeared. "Yes, exactly, fun."

This seemed to be the right response, for the band started playing immediately and Bonejangles began to sing; as everyone else joined in, James found a mug of some sort of alcohol shoved into his hand by Albert.

"Go on, drink up!"

"It won't kill me?" James peered at the liquid inside the cup with a frown. He did not want to be stuck here permanently, since he still had his parents and sister to get back to.

"Course not." He was clapped on the back. "Go on, have one and let's get to kicking!"

He took an experimental sip, and Albert waited patiently. When he realized that the liquid had indeed not killed him, he tipped back the entire thing and chugged it all down; when he set the mug on the countertop, he found himself subject to another one of the skeleton man's grins, and could not stop himself from doing the same as he was pulled off and forced to dance.

"Come on, then!" yelled General Bonesapart, who was standing on the counter, sword sticking out of his chest, and shimmying about with a mug in his hand. "Dance, living boy!"

"I, er…" James did not quite know what to do now, and turned to Albert for help. The skeleton was already spinning about and even lifting his head off his shoulders, and since James himself could not do that, he attempted to move with the beat. After a few moments, when he was not judged or ridiculed as he would have been in the aboveland, he found himself gaining confidence and moving with to the rhythm.

"There you go!" Albert grinned proudly at him, and the mood was honestly very infectious as he continued to dance.

Perhaps it would not be so bad to spend a bit of time here; after all, they _were_ throwing him a bachelor party.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's number two! Seriously though...review!**

The party had to have lasted for hours, and James was mostly sure he was quite tipsy, if not drunk, when Bonejangles waltzed over, dragging Emily by the arm.

The young woman was actually smiling some, but it faded when she caught sight of him watching her.

"I found you a dance partner, fleshy dude!" Bonejangles told him, somehow managing to look mischievous despite the fact that he had no eyes, or lips to smirk with. "Go on, then, show her them moves you've been showing off!"

"I, ah," spluttered James when Emily was shoved into his side. She hastily took a step back. "Bonejangles, look, I don't think—"

"—don't tell me you're too good to dance with her!"

"What? I didn't say—"

"—then go on, man!"

And then, the skeleton was gone, leaving the two of them standing there, attempting to look anywhere but at each other. Well, it _was_ silent, until Emily's right eye fell out and a maggot popped out of the socket.

"Hey, you!" it cried at James, who shook his head wildly for a moment, wondering if this were some sort of drunken hallucination. It was not. Quickly, he bent down and plucked the eye off the ground, gingerly rolling it over in his palm. It stared back at him, and he decided it would be best to simply give the lady her eye back; however, he first rubbed it off on the side of his jacket before returning it to her.

"Thank you," she whispered, popping it back in place. With the talking maggot gone, he felt a bit more at ease. It was also easier to relax when he wasn't holding someone's eye in his hand.

"No problem," James mumbled back, turning his attention to the mug in his hand. it was full, and had just been pushed at him by Albert, who was having a grand time; he had been, too, until Bonejangles had all but shoved the Corpse Bride at him. He paused for a moment and sat it down. This was definitely not the way he should be acting as a gentleman, at least, in terms of not greeting her properly. He bent himself at the waist and lightly took one of her hands, the blue and ice cold one that had not yet decomposed; he pressed a kiss to the hand, and Emily's brows furrowed. "I'm sorry for not properly introducing myself earlier. I'm James."

"Emily." She stared at him, before quickly pulling her hand back and drawing it to her chest. Those eyes of hers shone, and she bit her lip. "I'm sorry, I can't."

And then she was gone, running off as fast as her heels would allow, and James collapsed heavily against the counter, grabbing his mug yet again and taking a gulp.

 _Some charmer I am,_ he grumbled to himself. _She ran away from me! She must not be very comfortable around me considering who my father is…_

"That didn't go so well, huh?"

The voice had him glancing about for the source, but he could not find one, until he saw something wave in front of his face; it was a spider, dangling from a web.

Startled, he almost swatted at it before he stopped himself and redirected his arm's course, instead sending it swiping uselessly at the air and returning to his side. He must have looked like a fool doing so, but at the moment he couldn't care less.

"No." He peered over at the spider. "Is she always like this? My father said…"

"Your father is who ruined her, dear." The spider sighed. It was obviously female. "Well, first that evil Barkis man, and then your father. He just couldn't love her back, not the way she loved him, and so she let him go. But it hurts her still, and his son asking to come to our land was something else entirely. She knows you're going to leave, so she doesn't want to get close."

"Too true," said Albert, who had made his way over and caught what they were saying. He leaned against the counter and took his pipe from his mouth. "The poor girl."

"I'll have to leave eventually!" James ran a hand over his hair. "I still have mother and father and my sister Mary to get back to, not to mention the wedding with Elizabeth…"

"We know, lad." Albert patted his shoulder, bones clacking together as he did so. "But so does she. She's a wonderful person when you get to know her, you know. Perhaps, while you're here, you can try?"

The young man frowned. "I thought you said she doesn't want me to get close because I'll be leaving?"

"Everyone needs a friend," lectured the spider beside him, who he had almost forgotten was there. "Even when they believe they don't. The ones that don't want one are the ones that need them the most."

James sighed. He had been having a great time here, really, and quite frankly he was loving it far more than any party he had ever experienced with the living. And, already he felt as though he were good friends with Albert and Bonejangles, who he had been conversing with throughout the entire party; besides, no one judged him here. No one told him what he had to do or who he should be or who he should marry (not that he did not love his parents dearly, but though their intentions were pure, he did not want to get married). And truthfully, since he had heard of the mysterious Corpse Bride his father told him of today, he had wanted to find her, to know her. It were as though he had been pulled here, really. Like fate.

It couldn't hurt to try to be her friend, could it?

"Where is she?"

"She should be on the cliffside," it was the spider who answered, while Albert gave such a deep nod that his head nearly fell off. "It overlooks the city. If you leave the bar and go outside, you turn left, then right, then left again in the alley, and there the stairs will be for you to go up." She chuckled. "That is, unless you want to climb the cliff like your father did."

James offered her a smile. "I'll take the stairs, thanks."

~~~xxx~~~

Emily sat alone on the bench overlooking town, staring off into the distance.

When she had fallen in love with the newcomer, Barkis Bittern, she had been alive and young and naive, which had led to her ultimate downfall—her death. She had woken up in a strange place after, her pouch of jewels and such gone, a knife sticking out of her back; that was when she had met the just dead Albert and almost completely decomposed Bonejangles, who helped her out when she needed it. They removed that knife, and then everyone in the deadland were all very nice to her—she supposed there wasn't much need to hold grudges when you were no longer alive.

She had been heartbroken, and had lived in despair for a good many years before she heard it, heard him. He had spoken his vows so beautifully, and she had been overjoyed when that ring was slid onto her finger— _finally, someone to love her!—_ but when she had appeared, he had run from her. Oh, he did end up in the deadland, of course, and had been very shocked and afraid by everything he saw; when he had run again, she went looking for him. She had supposed it must all be very different for someone who had not yet died, so she had not pushed and instead given him a wedding present, his old dog Scraps. He had been overjoyed, and so it went on. She was tricked and lied to, but he had at least cared for her, and in the end, was even going to die so that he might honor his promise to her. She had loved him, but Victor Van Dort had loved another, that living girl, Victoria, and his heart would never truly be with her; she could not ask him to die for her, could not take away someone else's chance for happiness. So, Barkis had been defeated and she let Victor go. It was the right thing to do.

She had returned to the deadland full of sorrow and pain, and the others had tried and often actually managed to cheer her up, but yet still, she was lonely. She was alone, and unwanted, and unloved, and then came along another boy, this James Van Dort. It was only by fate's cruel design that the son of her previous love would come here in a predicament similar to his father's before him. He would only leave, and so, she could not allow herself to be close to the boy, no matter how handsome he was or how nice he seemed.

"All this thinking," Maggot called inside her head. "It is hurting even _my_ brain!"

"Shut up," she mumbled absently, shaking her head just hard enough to jostle him. He cursed and went silent.

" _I'm sorry, this just can't work! We're just too different."_

" _Why can't you understand that was a mistake? I would never marry you!"_

" _Always a bridesmaid, never a bride."_

" _Can a heart still break once it's stopped beating?"_

"I'm so stupid…" A tear rolled down her cheek, and she was startled when it was wiped away by a warm finger. She glanced up through her hair at the intruder, and she scooted away.

"I'd hope not," said James Van Dort, offering her a small smile and lowering his hand. "It's not stupid to love someone."

"Please, go away."

"It wouldn't be very kind of me to leave a beautiful woman to cry alone."

He had been uncomfortable before and he must still be somewhat drunk, but he seemed to have regained some semblance of confidence.

Emily looked away and clasped her hands together in her lap. "You don't mean that."

"I do." A hand reached out to clasp one of hers—the skeletal one—and she expected him to flinch. He did not, and she stared at him as he held the hand in both of his own now, green eyes boring into hers. "I wouldn't have said it otherwise."

She sniffed and wiped at her eye, making to pull away, but he would not allow her. "You're drunk."

"I've often heard that when someone is drunk, they more than often tell the truth."

"James…"

He leaned forward, somehow serious and earnest at the same time. "I came here for one last adventure before I'm bound to a woman I don't want to marry. I've never had any friends, and yet I've already made a few in the short time I've been here. Everyone needs a friend, Emily, whether they realize it or not. You sounded like a wonderful person in the story my father told me, and though all you've been doing is pushing me away, I want to get to know you." He squeezed the bones of her hand, but did not show any outward reaction to how strange it must feel for him. "In the time I have left down here, will you let me?"

 _I can't...he's only going to leave, and I'll only get more attached the closer we get...but he's so sweet…_

" _I say do it,"_ whispered Maggot, voice reverberating through her skull.

Emily sat there for a long few moments, staring at their hands, and James had begun to fidget a bit anxiously as he waited.

"I…" She swallowed, and threw caution to the wind yet again— _but this will be the last time._ "Alright."

James smiled at her and stood, offering her one of his now free hands; gingerly, she slid one of her own into it and allowed him to pull her to her feet. "Good. How about you show me around?"

She pulled her hand away and strolled forward, beckoning him to follow.


End file.
